Wicked Girls......What Do You Really Think Of Us?

You have seen us...in restaurants, at work, in bars, while shopping. Are you one of us, or do you aspire to be? Do you look at us with disdain, or uncertainty? Are you a man who stands back and wonders, or are you a man who sees us and gets excited, or do we intimidate you? The Wicked stir many emotions. We are not unaware of this. We are merely unconcerned. You are not our focus. Part of the very fiber of what makes us who we are is that fact, you see.

We enjoy life, we live it, typically with exuberance. We are that girl in the restaurant who laughs out loud at her companion. Who smiles at those who pass by and treats her server like a host who has invited them into their home. (the exception being when the service itself is really horrible, even then, ask for a manager, no reason to squabble with servers or talk down to them, seriously, being an asshat is not wicked, it's childish)

We work hard and yet manage to play while we do it. We flirt with your spouse at work, yes, it's true, but it stops at harmless flirtation and he comes home less stressed because of it. You're welcome. We treat the girls who would actually sleep with him like shit, you're also welcome for that. We have standards.

We don't sidle up to a bar and plant ourselves. It's like tying us to a tree in a beautiful rainshower and telling us we can't run and spin through it. Pure torture. We must mingle, meet, talk, dance, move. We aren't necessarily the least bit interested in leaving with anyone other than the people we came in with, we are just social creatures who thrive on interaction. We talk. Do not blame us if your husband/boyfriend is watching us. We probably aren't aware of his presence in the room. We definitely won't be slipping him our number or trying to sneak outside with him. If he approaches us, that is on him, stop blaming womankind for your man's transgressions. 73% of all men do not wear their wedding rings, even when with their spouse. Is your man one? Are you the one who sits quietly by and wishes you could be that bold, grab our arm and tag along, a few trips around (and a few cocktails) and you will find it is a liberating and deliciously fun experience. People love talking about themselves. "Hi" draws out life stories. "What is that drink?" begins 15 minute conversations about a trek after college through Italy. Life is fun as a Wicked girl.

Guys, oh my lovely, dahling men. The ones who love us, fear us and want to conquer us. I do so adore you all. I mean that, each of you for a different reason, of course. The dream being to find that perfect balance of all of those traits wrapped into one man. Preferably a man with the body of Jason Statham, the humor of Jimmy Fallon and the voice Vin Diesel(but maybe give him one of those bloody hot English accents, the dirty ones, not a Prince william kind, a street English accent, oh hell yeah.....yummmmmmmmm)

Wicked girls fascinate you, don't we? It's ok, that slightly out of reach quality is apealling, you can't help it. We are bold and unusually honest, which, ironically, is probably most frightening to those Alpha types out there. Of course, you express your fear in thinly veiled disgust. You claim we are simply not your type(intelligent) or aren't marraige material(have potentially had sex with enough men to know you are NOT as impressive as you think you are)or we are not a high enough rank to be your mate(because somehow your rank is skewed despite your beergut and lack of bank and upward mobility and disparate looks, after all, you imagined this little scale, not to fret girls, I am working on one for us). So yes, Alphas, cower in the corner when the Wicked girls come rolling in, make your excuses as to why we aren't your type, because honestly, we prefer our men to be capable of thinking with both the lower case d and the brain, hold in-depth conversations about history and art and music and philosophy and something tells me your incestuous beating off to your cousins picture distracted you from much studying.(props to Vapid Blonde) Besides, your all about being dominant, how the hell do you dominate a smart, profoundly self aware woman.....let me know when you figure that out and I will try not to laugh at you while you give it a go.

The Betas love us, we will take good care of them. Ugh, I am stopping right there. Enough said.

Which brings us to the ones who want to conquer us....not the "me Tarzan, you Jane" kind of conquer, but the one who spots us in that restaurant or bar and can't stop watching, the one who is fascinated by the boldness, neither afraid nor in need of it. Simply enamored. Enchanted.(my favorite word in the English language, btw) He is a combination of many things. He is smart enough to know you can't catch a Wicked girl, pursuit causes flight. He is adept enough to put himself in our path, often. He is intelligent enough to make us laugh and hold our attention, tell us something no one else in the room would know, maybe even understand(I'm in Kentucky, if it doesn't involve NASCAR or a hunting show, he has an advantage). he is that combination that blends with us and creates a world with us, not for us or inside ours, never around ours, smothering us. For the man who loves a Wicked girl and appreciates her Wicked nature, can handle her blunt nature, can meet it with his own, he is a man not only worthy of our attentions but our loyalty and one who will be loyal to us. Gag if you will, or make faces and laugh and assume that all men are the sad little ego strokers(Zing! Pun, I do so love my puns, why did I even bother with kids??) who need more than one woman, if you must, but, Alphas, need I remind you, you can't handle one wicked girl, so go back to your corner and, well....

Whatever your thoughts on us may be, we respect you and what your choices in life may be. Well, with a few exceptions *ahem*. I respect the sanctity of marraige. I respect the dedication of parenting. I respect the ridiculous hardships people in this nation face everyday because of the ignorance of others, be it due to sex, race, lifestyle, etc. All I am suggesting is, maybe next time you assume we are sluts because we have somehow found ourselves wandering out of a strip club at 4am, stop and ask yourself 2 things,

1) Who the fuck am I to judge since I am out at 4 in the morning too?

2) How does this effect me?

Also, slut is a highly subjective word.....just sayin. ;)

Oh, by the by, off topic but to wrap up tonight's post, but I am not a fan of the Winter Olympics because, well, they look fucking cold!! But, what would make them worse? They have completely taken away my Jimmy fix. Yeah, that's right. Jimmy Fallon withdrawals are worse than trying to kick meth. Well, ok, I don't actually have any way of knowing that, but, I really miss Jimmy. Plus, he hasn't been able to brag about the chocolate vaginas I sent him. *sigh*